800*

  • What I say: I love the 'enemies to lovers' trope
  • What people think I mean: I get off on violence. I think hate sex is the best, don't think healthy and stable relationships are 'interesting' enough, and I purposefully sabotage all my relationships. I frequently ship characters with their abusers and consider dragging someone along and domestic violence 'grey areas' because if you look at context it really just means they love each other.
  • What I actually mean: I love it when two people who hate each other, whether it be seemingly clashing personalities, or actual literal enemies (always enemies who balance each other out. Not 'anti-hero/villain guy constantly harasses heroine girl', but two people who are evenly matched and can hold their own against each other and even in hatred have somewhat respect for the other) who are fighting on opposite sides of a struggle, come together on equal ground and realize that they have more in common than they previously thought. When the two finally join the same side, whether it's due to the redemption of one character or what have you, they may not get along at first, but with time and effort the two eventually find themselves friends with the other. Only *after* they have an established trust and friendship do they then start to have romantic feelings for the other. The 'enemies to lovers' trope does not work if you cannot put 'friend' between the two.

how can you hate ron weasley? how can you hate ron “sneak out in the middle of the night in a flying car to rescue you” weasley? how can you hate ron “sacrifice himself at the age of 11 to do the right thing” weasley? how can you hate ron “make you part of my family because I know you don’t have one” weasley? how can you hate ron “stood up in a broken leg to defend his best friend” weasley? how can you hate “followed the spiders even if it was his biggest fear just to be there with his best friend” weasley? if you disagree im ready to fite you

8

Baby Driver (2017), dir. Edgar Wright

“So here’s the thing, I’m looking at some of the country’s finest thugs and of course young Mozart in a go-cart over there. People love great bank robbery stories, so let’s give them something full and brazen as fuck to talk about over their lattes.”

glory or wisdom? love or power? violin or piano? fire or water? air or earth? forest or river? black or white? left or right? heads or tails? theatre or cinema? give or take? dawn or dusk? gold or silver? art or music? morning or night? venus or mercury?

Please, let him be soft. 

I know you made him 
     with gunmetal bones
     and wolf’s teeth.
I know you made him to be
     a warrior
     a soldier
     a hero.

But even gunmetal can warp
and even wolf’s teeth can dull
and I do not want to see him break
the way old and worn and overused things do.

I do not want to see him go up in flames
     the way all heroes end up martyrs.

I know that you will tell me 
that the world needs him.
The world needs his heart
     and his faith
     and his courage
     and his strength
     and his bones and his teeth and his blood and his voice and his–
The world needs anything he will give them.

Damn the world,
     and damn you too.
Damn anyone that ever asked anything of him,
     damn anyone that ever took anything from him,
           damn anyone that ever prayed to his name.
You know that he will give them everything
     until there is nothing left of him
         but the imprint of dust
              where his feet once trod.
You know that he will bear the world like Atlas
    until his shoulders collapse
         and his knees buckle
              and he is crushed by all he used to carry. 

Dear God, 
you have already made an Atlas.
You have already made an Achilles and an Icarus and a Hercules. 
You have already made a sacrificial lamb of your Son.
You have already made so many heroes,
and you can make another again. 
You can have your pick of heroes. 

So please, I beg you–
he is all that I have, 
and you have so many heroes
and the world has so many more. 
Let him be soft, 
and let him be mine.

—  Please, let him be happy ( j.p. )